Rhyme Me Something, Preacher

Rhyme Me Something, Preacher Copyright Doug Blair, Waterloo ON, 2019

When We Cry (and are misunderstood)

We seem broken And the world looks on And leers They cringe

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At our confession Misunderstand our tears And jest that faith’s For weaklings And those who Can’t get on Their hasty valuation Couldn’t be more wrong.

The tears speak Undeserving The tears speak What He did The tears speak Comprehension

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That we are now God’s kids.

And oh the joy So thrilling And so amazed We stand And know beyond All doubting That we are in His hand.

(John 10: 27-30)

Waves Get Nasty

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Image by George Richardson

Is it that rough for you, Christian?

Can’t keep your feet on the ground?

Waves pound and noise seems horrific Dreading the spray and the sound.

Yes now your sea is all boisterous Can’t hear the call of the Lord What’s that He said through the darkness?

Chilling the bone with one word:

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“Come” you may walk o’er these waters.

“Come” just as you see me do “Come” they’re all noise and commotion Trust in my word and pass through.

I will be there on the billows Waiting to meet you. Rejoice.

Nothing can foil my agenda If you will just heed my voice.

And you know surely you heard it Right before waves brought the fear Trust in my word, don’t desert it Miracle ground is found here.

Two Days at Sychar

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She ran to tell them Of the man who met her at the well In mid-day’s heat As if for her alone He came to tell That she was through with daily thirst

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And shameful gossip-thrust How did He know Those desperate years of License and of lust?

A prophet, true And one who spoke Of waters to impart No mocker He Serenity Contentment for her heart.

So off she ran “Come see the man Who knows my every deed Forgives it all, The big, the small And leaves my conscience freed.

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Yes drink of Him The fresh supply of Spirit without end.�

They came, they heard.

They took His word And hailed Him as their friend.

John 4: 1-43

Storyteller

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Just give you some stories Let pictures run wild Appeal to the hopeful Appeal to the child With something original A puzzle or song To keep up the interest To coax you along.

My Father is awesome Beyond all men’s ken And I use these mysteries To draw you again.

Some must have the answer Some shrug off and whine A test in the challenge Faith’s hunger to find.

And hungry go further Til full Kingdom comes And God makes His dwelling In satisfied homes.

Babe’s Skin

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All I could do When others departed Stop and consider What just had been done Look at my skin Once ravaged and pitted Look at my fingers

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(I’d lost more than one) “Leper” they called me And fled from my presence “Leper” the stigma Of sad weeping shell Lonely the life Deemed God’s hot displeasure Friendless and homeless My own private hell Jesus had seen us All ten in our sad plight Sent to the priests To declare all things healed Cleansed just like babes From a dreadful contagion Nine still in darkness

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To one Grace revealed How could I not thank The calm Galilean Sharing a kindness That opened my soul Joyful in transport I cling to His next words: “Happy for you friend Now every whit whole.” ​Luke 17: 12-19

Immeasurable

Do you dare measure The limits of Jerusalem

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Scope of her reaching Or gleaming of her light?

You with the rod Of heartless feet And inches Tallies and tokens To gauge her worth aright?

Pointless this plan To weigh the sum of mercy Sobs of relief Or joy of family found Words of Messiah That promise constant keeping Purpose and plenty

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To all on Holy Ground.

Better you view A single act of kindness Savour the smell Of Jesus drawing near.

Tend to the marvel Of widows’ love rekindled.

Delight in laughter Of children freed from fear.

(Zechariah 2: 1-5)

A Son to His Father

Yes, Father.

I have sought your face.

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I have heard your voice.

I have found your will.

I have delighted in following.

As a youngster at home.

In the carpenter’s shop.

As the Romans came to town and went.

At the Jordan with John.

Stretched in the wilderness.

In the teeming curious crowds.

Alone, and seeking in night hours.

With the sick.

With the cynical.

When challenged as to my service.

When challenged as to the Kingdom.

When disappointed by friends.

When weary of their ambition.

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In Gethsemane.

Troubled and sore amazed.

Telling the Governor the truth.

Enduring the pain, As one wretched thief Acknowledged our plan, And you seemed removed.

But the plan was sovereign.

I sit again at your side.

We have glorious fellowship.

We hear from the family.

We delight to bless.

And oh, dear Father, They are coming.

Your sons, daughters to the feast.

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Let's Understand This...

The Lord was having dinner His departure close at hand And the format echoed Moses' Tortured trek to Promised Land And the blood that worked Passover Now was in a cup Christ raised His a Life of selfless giving Coming ages thanked and praised.

And a promise now so strangely To dear friends who scarcely knew That the Spirit's help was coming More than meet to see life through.

His a power of conviction Touching both the good and grim Citing sin and righteous victory Filling judgment to the brim.

Yes to judge the Prince of Darkness Who has held sway o'er this place Jesus came and Jesus conquered Though it seemed all sad disgrace.

Wicked men would raise Him cross-wise And would jeer at all He said

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But an empty tomb endorsed Life And brought ceaseless joy instead.

Can you hear this?

"Prince of Darkness."

And you thought this World was kind But it blinks at so much suffering That Love's Gospel brings to mind.

John 16: 8-11

Beneficiary

You are wisdom unimagined And you took that chosen race From the brickyards and the beatings To a healthy holy place.

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You are power at its apex And the sea and shore your toys Still you hint in starlit evenings Coming other-worldly joys.

You are giver without limit And each poor request will win The delight of Heaven’s friendship And bright mornings free from sin.

You have Fathered life eternal Through your perfect trusting Son

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And He calls us to the family That His blood and tears have won.

Now I ponder Grace full measure Only you could make us whole And I laugh in love’s rich treasure And a freely ransomed soul.

The Simplest Letter (In his senior years administering some churches in Asia Minor, John the Beloved wrote a glorious letter of assurance.) ‘I have handled Light and Love Basked in His perfect instruction

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Saw Him put flesh on Righteousness and brotherly kindness Felt a fortunate, thankful heart bursting.

And I have His nature; His Spirit.

By this I have escaped the world Its lusts, striving and fear.

It lies in wickedness But that wickedness Bows before the anointing His anointing, liberally shared Overcoming Tweaking the nose of anti-Christ

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Of denial and darkness.

And all of the other idols Lose their pull.

Friends you may have All of this as well Directly from Him. His Story (Word).

His identification (Water) His cleansing (Blood).

The Son of God sent Unreservedly As Saviour of the world.’

Reality

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And I awoke And saw a crowd of singers Loudly rehearsing The victories of their King.

Crutches and prosthetics Discarded New skin formed over Past troubles Vision twenty-twenty And hearing right on key.

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The celebration embodying My journey’s hope Of family and forgiveness Of danger’s dwindling snarl.

The inner Spring given voice Now free from any reticence From past stumblings Shame or confusion.

This was the real Behind the screen of struggle and clamour.

This was Heaven.

And Jesus arrived…

Bent Double

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Eighteen years stooped over Like a bowing fern No real recollection Of the cause Only sunny vistas gone Her Brother’s face Almost forgot.

Routines doubly daunting.

And a nagging sense That blame was hers.

Cobblestones became friends And guides.

The smooth ones to market.

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Red ones to synagogue Overgrown ones to pasture Where the stream began And washing of few clothes.

Un-noticed became strange comfort.

No explanations.

No hopes dashed down.

Just soothing sameness.

From waste level.

But news spread that The Rabbi had come.

The One with stories Hope of untarnished Life

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And healing hands.

Tempted by novelty Nothing else She followed the human flow To teaching’s fount.

He saw her right away The one most hurting And knew in an instant She could in no wise lift herself up.

But He could.

And did, with but a touch.

“Woman…loosed from thine infirmity Daughter of Abraham

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Target of Satan These eighteen years Straightened now to the glory of God.” And His face was beaming And delighted.

And without condemnation This was the reason For people’s fuss and excitement.

Heaven’s love and power Resident in a humble Available Man. Luke 13: 10-17 Isaiah 25 http://issuudotcomslashdewane.wordpress.com/

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